The Hart Brothers - The Complete Series

By Caleb Stone

This complete series, including all three steamy Hart Brothers books, is a scorching collection of standalone M/M romance stories fully loaded with ultra gorgeous guys, insatiable sexual appetites, and unexpected newfound love. This bundle includes "Not Just An Attraction", a previous best seller on Amazon.

The Hart Brothers Complete Series includes the following:

NOT JUST AN ATTRACTION - Book 1

Shane Hart is every man's dream. He's rich, built like a Greek god, and hands down one of the most powerful men on the East Coast. And now, after a horrible divorce, he's out on the prowl. But to be perfectly clear, Shane isn't looking for anything more than a solo night of raw, unbound pleasure.

Enter Chris Cohen… A young, single school teacher who just so happens to land himself in one of Shane's bars at a time when Shane is hungriest for a fresh body to manhandle. Chris isn't on the market, at least not until Shane spots him on the dance floor. In fact, Chris is dead set on keeping things simple in his life right now as he tries to rebuild himself with a new city, a new job, and a forgotten past.

But once a Hart boy, always a Hart boy. Because the second Shane gets a closer look at Chris, his body makes up his mind for him.

Yes, they have insane physical chemistry with each other. But do they have even more than just an attraction?

NOT JUST AN INFATUATION - Book 2

Colby Hart doesn't comprehend the word no. Why would he? He's built like an NFL linebacker, he's one of the most powerful political figures in the state, and he has direct ties to the legendary Hart family. And now, as a newly elected mayor in a major, albeit broken, city, Colby is more powerful than ever.

Enter Nate Walker… A devilishly handsome, lanky, and witty Harvard graduate who just so happens to be applying for the job as Colby's new Director of Communications.

Colby has always had an impossibly difficult time keeping his hands to himself when it comes to gorgeous looking guys that cross his path. But when he first lays eyes on Nate, it's not just his hands that he can't keep off him.

Yes, they can't seem to keep their clothes on whenever they're alone together. But do they have even more than just an infatuation?

NOT JUST AN DISTRACTION - Book 3

Jay Hart is the ultimate protector. He's got the whole tall, dark and handsome thing down to a science. Throw in the fact that his arms are bigger than most men's legs, and you end up with a bone-crushing beast with an insatiable need to dominate other men in the bedroom. And now, after being accused of a crime he swears he has nothing to do with, he's feeling more ferocious than ever before.

Enter Pierce Valentine… A hotshot criminal defense attorney with enough good looks, charisma, and success to give even a man like Jay Hart a run for his money.

What starts out as something clean, quick, and simple between the two men explodes into something altogether dirty, long lasting, and anything but simple.

Now, they can't seem to focus on anything but each other's naked flesh. But do they mean anything more to each other than just a distraction?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caleb Stone
• Release date: Jul 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386770374

Book preview

NOT JUST AN ATTRACTION (The Hart Brothers, Book One)

Caleb Stone

Chapter One

Shane

Lately, I’ve been trying to keep to myself, but tonight is different. After the day I just had, I need a release in a big way or shit’s going to get ugly.

And by release, I mean I need to find just the right guy to get loose with and fuck the hell out of. I’ve waited too long as it is, and look where that got me today.

Just one good, hard fuck ought to do the trick. Nothing more, nothing less.

Refill? the bartender asks.

I nod my head, but my eyes are locked in on my target. I watch some guy as he bumps and grinds on the dance floor with a buddy of his. Something about the way he moves his hips, the shape of his ass, and his thick, dark curls that glisten from the sweat he’s worked up out there on the dance floor... All of that combined makes it nearly impossible for me to look away from him. Sure, he’s not alone, but that means nothing to me. Plus, his friend looks totally distracted, and way more flamboyant, to be a serious match for my clean-cut, toned down target.

The bartender hands me another scotch. I throw down a twenty. It’s yours, I say, sipping from my glass as I continue to stare down the guy on the dance floor.

Thanks, Mr. Hart. Appreciate it.

I don’t respond. My attention is elsewhere, such as on the hot fucking dude on the dance floor who’s shaking his taught, perfectly rounded ass around like he’s just asking for trouble.

And trouble he’ll get when he meets a man like me, a man capable of giving him way more than he’s ever dreamed of having.

He starts to wave his hands in the air and sway his slender hips from side to side, matching the rhythm of the music in the bar. Without even knowing it at first, I find my hands moving slightly in his direction like they have a mind of their own. I want to put my big mitts on the tops of his hipbones and own that body of his from behind.

Fuck, what I would pay to pull down those tight jeans of his and see the expression on his face when I slide my finger in his ass.

And that’s just an appetizer. I can’t even say what else I would do. Just letting myself think that far ahead would make my cock so hard it’d be impossible to hide it in my suit pants.

I look around to make sure it’s not ridiculously obvious that I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m in the clear. This is my kind of bar, a good mix of just about every type of person- straight, gay, rockers, frat boys, academics, you name it. It’s the kind of place you can get lost in.

Then again, I own the building it’s in, so it’s no coincidence that it suits my needs.

It’s the perfect hangout for a guy like me to blend in and let go of everything that just happened to me in the mediation hearing today. Fucking bitch, she went too far this time. But that’s neither here nor there.

Shit. I actually dribble a little bit of my whiskey on my chin as the guy I’m fixated on starts walking directly towards me. He walks up beside me, flashes a glance my way, then instantly looks away.

This guy looks and smells ten hundred times better now that he’s up and close to me.

And judging by how quickly he just looked away from me, he’s either not interested or he thinks I’m straight. Either way, I don’t appreciate the lack of attention I’m getting from him already.

I look him up and down again, especially now that I’ve got such a close view. My cock starts to throb in my pants at the mere sight of him. He’s tall, but not taller than me. He’s dressed simply in a pair of tight button fly jeans and a fitted gray T-shirt that accentuate his lean, toned muscles from head to toe. And without even knowing what’s under that shirt he’s wearing, I’d bet my fortune on the fact that his abs are rippled from top to bottom. The drink’s on me, I say.

He looks over at me and does a double take as though he thinks he’s hearing voices.

Yeah, you, I say, unable to hide my glare as my eyes uncontrollably glance down at the good-sized bulge in his jeans.

He smiles briefly at me, then looks away and says, I prefer to buy my own drinks.

Looks like I picked a fighter. I like that.

What if I said I owned this bar? And that I insist on buying you a drink? I say.

His smile disappears from his beautiful face. Then I’d say you’re not exactly the most modest man I’d ever been hit on by, he says.

Blood drains from my cheeks. But the more he pushes back, the more I want to put my dick all the way up his tight ass.

Since when does buying another man a drink equate to hitting on him? I ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. The light from the bar reflects off his full, pink lips and his straight, white teeth. Oh, I don’t know, maybe since the beginning of time?

You a history buff or something?

He chuckles but still refuses to look my way. Nightlife 101, that’s all. That and the fact that you’ve been stalking me for the past ten minutes. Can’t a man dance with a friend in peace around here?

I ignore all but the last part of his statement. Are you always that dirty with your friends?

He smirks and bites down on his lower lip. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his body just reacted to me, even though his eyes are still pointed forward. Not always, but I’m in one of those moods I guess.

My cock twitches in my pants. I shift slightly to hide my near-full erection. This guy, whoever he is, suddenly looks down at my crotch as I shift. Who’s staring at who now? I ask as I catch him looking at my package.

He nods his head once, admitting defeat, then looks away again.

The bartender interrupts my trance. What are you thirsty for? he asks him.

My target reaches in his jeans and pulls out a five-dollar bill. He throws it down on the glossy wooden countertop. I’ll take a Sam’s. Any Sam’s.

I clench a fist as the bartender collects the bill.

I told you I was buying, I say.

And I told you what my preferences are. He brushes a bead of sweat off his forehead at the same time he reaches for the bottle of beer that was just put in front of him.

And I told you I own this place, I add.

He turns to look at me head on. We’re now only inches apart. I don’t even know how he got this close, but I’m glad he did. There are tiny speckles of stubble peppering his otherwise smooth skin. His sweat smells fucking delicious, and I swear I can practically taste his salty skin on my tongue.

Not tonight, boss man, he says. Then he reaches forward and grabs a handful of my cock that’s been busting at the seams in my boxer briefs. Fuck, I’m so totally caught off guard that I take in a short gasp of air.

Nobody, guy or girl, has ever stolen my breath like this in my entire life.

I stand there, speechless, with my mouth gaped slightly open, as he walks back over to the dance floor. Maybe I underestimated him.

What the fuck just happened?

Chapter Two

Chris

Holy fuck.

I fight back the unbearable urge to look back at the bar.

My heart is screaming in my fucking chest over whatever the hell just went down.

What was I thinking?

I’m pretty sure that so-called owner guy was hitting on me, but not sure enough to do what I just did.

I never should have done that.

I look down at my hand and curl my fingers into my palm as I try to relive the sensation of his dick pressed up against my skin.

I’m lucky he didn’t bash my head in. I’m not the smallest guy in this place, but he has at least a few inches on me, and a good twenty pounds. And he had an edgy, blue-collar demeanor, even beneath his expensive looking suit, that told me he wasn’t afraid to use his fists as lethal weapons if he had to.

Whatever you do Chris, don’t fucking look back.

Milo, my roommate who just so happens to have a real knack for flaunting the fact that he’s gay every chance he gets, starts grinding up on my face again. It’s as though he didn’t even notice I was gone.

Good. That’s exactly the way I want things to be right now. Because the last person I want to know what just happened would be Milo, a damn near icon in this city’s social media world. And Milo won’t spare a single detail if he feels it’s in the name of telling a good story.

I think I’m going to take off, I yell out over the loud club music.

Milo snaps his fingers and gyrates his hips to the beat of the music. WHAT? he says, putting his hand up to his ear as though he can’t hear me through the PA system that’s only a foot or two from our ears.

I said I should go! I yell even louder.

Milo snorts and pretends to spit on my sneakers. He doubles the speed of his dance moves. Silly boy. I told you we’re not going to have to work tomorrow. Snow day for sure.

I shake my head. You don’t know that, Milo. And besides, I still don’t want to be up late. Milo and I work at the same school. I’m a fourth-grade teacher, and he’s the art teacher at my school. And nobody loves snow days more than Milo.

He’s probably right. We’re probably not going to have to work. In fact, I’m surprised our district hasn’t already called it off by now given the forecast.

Regardless, I need to get the fuck out of this place. I just moved to this city four months ago, and I need to stay out of trouble if I’m going to make things work here in Boston.

Something in me causes me to turn around and look back at the bar. He’s gone. Fuck. I’m so disappointed inside I should be ashamed of myself. For one, that guy was way, way, way out of my league. Guys like him- jacked, probably rich, and handsome as hell- don’t date guys like me. I’m not saying I think I’m completely unattractive or anything, I’m just not in the same league as him. And besides, he was arrogant as hell. Even if he does own this place, what kind of dude walks around bragging about it like that?

There you go again, Chris. Tearing someone else apart just to make yourself feel better inside. Truth is, I’m totally devastated that I can’t find him anywhere in this bar, no matter how cocky he was. Strangely, his cockiness was actually sexy as hell. That, and his steel blue eyes and rugged face that was worth dying for and then some.

I take a deep breath as I try to forget whatever happened between that stranger and me. Because whatever it was, it’s now officially over. I turn to face Milo, who’s dancing to a Bruno Mars’ song like he’s Bruno himself at the Super Bowl halftime show. Milo being Milo, he starts to get carried away in his antics and accidentally drops his open cup of beer on the dance floor.

A stick figure sorority chick with plastic tits shrieks as Milo’s beer floods her open pink toenails. Before Milo can apologize, not that I’m sure he would have given his lack of respect for all things mainstream, her shaved-head, musclehead, tank top wearing boyfriend springs into action, getting right up in Milo’s face.

Oh dear, someone’s been hitting the gym, Milo says in gest, running his fingers down the dude’s oversized chest muscles. I look down and see that the man’s knuckles have turned completely white as they clutch the bottle of beer in his hand.

Milo, this isn’t a fucking joke. Say you're sorry, I plead with Milo. He’s sorry, I say to the boyfriend, trying my best to prevent this bad situation from getting any worse.

The boyfriend shoves my chest out of nowhere and gets up in my face. What’s a homo like you going to do about it?

I back up a step. Fighting’s not really my thing unless I have no other choice. And even if it was, this guy looks like he’s out of his mind. Bald skull, tattoos creeping up his neck, and psycho eyes that don’t look like they can be reasoned with.

I swallow heavily as fear takes over my body. Nothing. I don’t want to do anything, I say. My friend was being an idiot, that’s all.

Psycho eyes didn’t hear a word I just said. Either that, or he’s been chomping at the bit looking for someone to take out his UFC moves on. He lifts the beer bottle up over my head like he’s about to smash it across my forehead. I try to back away even further, but I unknowingly bump up against a wall of people dancing behind me. Then everything becomes a total blur. My entire body locks up in a full panic state as he starts to swing the glass bottle towards my head. I don’t have time to react, all I can do is close my eyes and brace myself for the pain that’s about to come. But it doesn’t.

I open my eyes and see him, the gorgeous guy at the bar, on top of the psycho who just tried to bash my skull in. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is using his knees to pin the lunatic’s beefy arms down, and his big hand to press the side of the guy’s face into a puddle of beer that’s probably spillover from Milo’s cup. Apart from being grateful that I’m still alive, and the fact that I don’t have brain damage from getting cracked on the head with a beer bottle, I can’t help but notice how effortless it is for him to keep this psycho pathetically motionless on the floor.

We good here? he says to the meathead. The meathead nods in agreement, essentially crying Uncle without actually saying the word. Mr. GQ, whose name I don’t even know, lets him get up and watches him closely until both the psycho and his girlfriend scurry out of the bar with their tails tucked between their legs.

Looks like we’re even now, the handsome man says to me with a sarcastic grin as he brushes himself off from the scuffle.

Even? I say. I can feel Milo’s eyes burning a hole in my face as he watches this uncharacteristic exchange.

I don’t like surprises, but I’ll give you credit. You got me earlier, but now we’re even. He methodically brushes a trace of dirt that he picked up from the scuffle off his shoulder. I’m not even sure it’s fair to call what just happened a scuffle because he handled that deranged boyfriend about as gracefully as was humanly possible.

By now all the onlookers in the bar have moved on. I guess seeing some asshole in a bar almost start a fight isn’t exactly breaking news around here. I would introduce Milo to this man, but I still don’t have a clue what his name is. To be honest, I thought I was never going to see him again, but today must be my lucky day.

I thought he was gorgeous before, but now, after what he just pulled, I couldn’t imagine any guy looking any hotter.

You didn’t have to do that, I say. I can handle myself.

He laughs from the center of his core.

Is that really that funny? I say. I look over at Milo, and even he’s laughing. What? You too? I add.

Milo finally chimes in, No offense, hombre, but you would be laid out on a stretcher right now if it wasn’t for this fine-looking stud. Then Milo winks at Mr. Handsome and brushes the guy's arm with his hand.

Mr. Handsome from the bar winks back playfully at Milo and says to him, Maybe that’s what he means by taking care of himself. My body feels all tingly inside, just watching the two of them interact, like all of a sudden we’re old childhood friends. But nothing could be further from reality. I’m more than positive that once our little interaction is over, I’m never going to see this man again. For now though, I feel like I’m in heaven. I mean, does it get any better than this? This guy makes Tom Brady look weak in comparison.

Like I said, now we’re even, he says, checking his phone like he suddenly has some place